Many women are so in love with babies that, even when they’re not planning to have any more children, just having one in their arms makes them want to have just one more because they so miss having a baby in their lives. I like babies; you could even say I love little babies, but I always feel a little awkward with those tiny little beings whose eyes can’t even focus. I mean, what does one say besides goo goo gah gah, which sounds so awkward coming out of my mouth. I guess it boils down to baby speak, and I don’t speak baby all that well.
As they get a older, though, when they’re beginning to turn into real “little people,” that’s when I begin to feel more comfortable with, and enjoy being around them. What that age is, of course, depends on the child. Some do well at six months, some at a year, others take a little longer. Usually by the time they’re two, however, they’re ready for honest to goodness communication. That’s when most children become real conversationalists if you take the time to talk to them one on one.
This is Thomas. He’s five-and-a-half and likes to wear costumes like this dalmatian jumpsuit to school, but sometimes chooses his brown bear outfit instead. Needless to say, he already has a reputation in his school as a free thinker.
Thomas was telling Auntie Vim and me recently that he had been allowed to invite his friend Maya for a sleepover in his new tent Dad set up in the family room downstairs. It occurred to me that my grandson just might have developed his first school crush. So I asked if Maya was his girlfriend. Oh no, Maya is just my friend. My girlfriend’s name is Madeline. He opened his eyes real wide and declared matter-of-factly, I’m going to marry her!
Oh really, Thomas? So what makes you think you’d rather marry Madeline than Maya? Oh, he said, as soon as I knew that Madeline went to Montessori School, I knew that she was the girl I would marry! It’s nice to know that our grandson is already making steps to ensure that our future granddaughter-in-law will be well educated in the Montessori method, but we are somewhat curious if Madeline or her mother are aware of Thomas’s wedding plans.
Yesterday he watched the old “pajama party” episode of Pee Wee’s Playhouse with Auntie Vim & Uncle Ben. In it, Pee Wee’s party guests get hungry in the middle of the night so Pee Wee makes a delicious fruit salad and declares that he loves fruit salad! So naturally the pajama party guests ask, then why don’t you marry it? So he does. Anything is possible on a television show.
Marriage was still on his mind today then, as he squinted his eyes and asked, Can you really marry a fruit salad? Madeline, you may have a little competition after all.
This is Vimala with her big brother. She’s two-and-a-half, and well on her way to becoming a real chatterbox. She’s a very girlie girl on the one hand, but can turn on a dime and be just like one of the boys when the little boys across the street come over to play.
She likes dressing up in Mommy’s high heels, or in her pink fairy costume, so she can pretend to be ALICE, THE FAIRY. For those who aren’t familiar with this children’s book, Alice, who–like Vimmy–has a nose for trouble, claims to be a Temporary Fairy, since she still has a lot to learn, such as how to make her clothes put themselves away in the closet, but that doesn’t keep Vimmy (I mean Alice) from waving her magic wand at big brother to see if she can make him disappear.
Vimmy is very comfortable joining in on the adult conversation during dinner with a random remark, perhaps about the baby zebra she saw at the zoo, or the cords she hates (as in any cord on lamps, appliances, etc). Or she might talk about art: We went to the art museum Monday, but it was closed.
When she needs to go the bathroom, she chooses who will be allowed to accompany her, and then, sitting on the potty, she will carry on a conversation about any and everything.
I hate the sound it makes! Then with her nose all wrinkled up, she declares And I hate the way it smells! Then she might roll her eyes trying to think of something else engaging to say, lift her shirt and say–pointing to her bellybutton–Gramma, do you remember this thing?”
Oh yes, Vimmy, I remember that thing. I’ll never forget our scintillating conversations either. I would say I can hardly wait to see what we’ll talk about when you’re older, but that would make me a lot older as well. I can wait awhile if you can!